Trick

by HJ Bellus

  “Kiss me, Trick. Make me feel alive.”

  I don’t say another word. In slow motion, feeling each second tick by, I lean down—inhaling her sweet scent and imprinting each of her innocent features to memory. I graze my lips along her plump perfect ones once, twice, and then a third time before sealing us together.

  It starts out slow as I memorize the feel of Mack’s lips on mine. My free hand goes to her hip, clutching it as if it’s an anchor grounding me. I graze my tongue along the seam of her lips until she parts them. I don’t waste time in exploring her mouth, soaking up her sweet taste. Mack melts underneath me. I feel her knees buckle the moment they do so. I release her hip and wrap my arm low around her waist, keeping her tiny body melded to mine.

  Mack brings her hands up to my face to frame it, then her tongue dances with mine. The action is hotter than any wildfire known to earth. It takes everything inside me not to haul her ass over to my apartment and kiss every inch of her perfect creamy skin.

  A thundering boom pulls us out of the moment. I drop my forehead to hers. Both of our chests heave in unison in the most mind-inducing song. I run the pad of my thumb over her swollen and love-bruised lip.

  “I—uh…I—uh…need to get going.”

  “I know,” I say but don’t move.

  Mack’s fingers cling to my face, letting me know she does not want to move either. I break the contact first, stepping back and running my hand through my hair. Frustration knots in the back of my neck as my shoulders tense. It takes everything inside me to remain two feet away from her.

  “Let me drive you home. I can toss your bike in the back of my truck.”

  “It’s okay. I want to ride home.”

  “Mack, it’s nearly dusk.”

  She steps up to me, her hands cupping my cheeks. Her wide, caring eyes analyze the cuts and bruises on my face. She stands up on her tiptoes and peppers light kisses over a few of them.

  “Another quirk of mine, Trick. I don’t ride in cars, and before you say you have a truck, it’s the same thing. Maybe one day, but my rebel introvert self is tapped out for the day.” She ends the last word with a lingering kiss on my lips.

  Mack steps back, grabs her rusted-out bike, and throws a leg over the seat. I cross my arms over my heaving chest, not sure if I like this confident, ornery side of Mack. It’s sexy as fuck and equally irritating.

  She hikes her worn yellow sneaker on the pedal and winks at me. “Save me a seat in class, Trick.”

  Then she’s off. Her perfect ass disappears into the landscape of the city. Her flowing raven hair is the last thing I see before her silhouette vanishes. I reach down and give my dick a hard squeeze through the athletic material of my shorts. It’s going to be a long fucking night. I reach for the door handle of my truck when I freeze. The deafening sounds of screeching tires and metal colliding send chills up my spine. It’s the devil’s song, sent straight from the depths of hell from Satan himself.

  Chapter 10

  Trick

  I strum my fingers on the desktop, tapping out the same nervous rhythm with my foot on the cold, harsh tile. The air in the room reeks of sterile disdain. I watch the clock on the wall, counting each second that ticks by. Fucking three more minutes, that’s it, and I’m going to lose my shit.

  “Hey.” A palm comes down on my shoulder.

  I crane my neck to the side and relax in my fucking seat. Mack. She’s here. No shit, she’s here, dumbass. You followed her home last night. The wreck in the intersection that Mack narrowly escaped by five seconds rattled me to my core. It left me panicked and cold. Without thinking, I jogged to her house. Of course, she beat me by a handful of minutes. The sight of her piece of shit bike leaning against the garage was all I needed to see.

  I had stood there, hunched over with my palms on my knees, catching my goddamn breath. Like a damn lunatic, I walked over to the bike and ran my hand along the rusty handlebars, making sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me, then I jogged back to the gym and my truck. I decided not to put in an extra workout session. Instead, I went directly to my apartment, fired up my MacBook, and messaged Mack.

  “Mack-A-Bee.” I place my hand on her thigh, giving it a generous squeeze. I bite down on my bottom lip, stifling the ass-chewing I’m dying to give her. “Kiss me.”

  She looks over her shoulder and then studies the auditorium before bending down and pecking my cheek.

  “Not like that.” I pucker up, causing her to slap her palm over her mouth and stifle a giggle.

  This time, it’s better. Not what I want but will do for now. She seals her lips to mine for the briefest of seconds. I let go of her leg, knowing damn well it will take her several minutes to get all her color-coordinated shit out of her bag. Mack bends over to unzip her backpack.

  It all happens in the blink of an eye. Her feet tangle together, sending her gorgeous toned body lurching forward. Mack is two seconds from taking a head dive in the row in front of us. I act. I shoot my hand forward, snagging the hem of her shorts. My fingers glide down the backside of them and yank her back. My knuckles soothe her soft skin.

  The desk bites into my abs as I pull her back. A mess of black raven hair swirls around us as Mack’s body flops down in her seat. My breathing hitches until she’s safely in her seat. This woman must be the clumsiest person I’ve ever met in my life. Over the weeks, I’ve seen her stumble and catch herself while other times she face plants. Shit, she would’ve face planted in the row in front of us.

  “Thanks,” she squeaks out.

  “Anytime.” I lean over and kiss her cheek. The public affection makes her blush to high hell and fidget with the hem of her shorts. Yeah, the shorts I so badly want to tear off before ravaging her body. I move around in the too-small seat, discreetly adjusting my growing dick. Settle down, partner.

  “Mack-A-Bee, you have to be the sexiest and clumsiest person I’ve ever met.” I trail my finger along the scar on her jaw. One day I’ll be asking about that, if she ever opens up to me enough.

  “That I won’t argue with you on.” She busies herself getting all her gadgets out and organized.

  “Lunch after class?” I ask, sneaking my hand under her desk and squeezing her thigh.

  “I—uh…can—”

  I cut her off with a searing kiss on the lips and an extra squeeze on her creamy skin. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  If Mack could get through a self-defense class and the tragedy known as Jag, then she could share a meal with me. The thoughts of parading her around campus and town make class drag by in a miserable fashion. Professor Rhoades’ class is one of my favorites, and typically I’m immersed in the lesson. Not today. One fine ass and intriguing woman controls my every thought.

  Today, the professor’s life lesson is about basically not being a dick in life because karma truly does exist. He proved this point with a story about his older sister slamming his finger in a door, which resulted in the tip of his pinky finger being chopped off. All of this happened after he wouldn’t let his sister play with him and his friends.

  “So what’s Mack’s favorite food?” I ask, standing up and hoisting my backpack over my shoulder. I extend a hand out, helping her up and basically on guard to catch her if she falls. Good damn thing I have lightning-fast reactions.

  She shrugs, turns around, and begins walking down the aisle toward the exit. I keep close to her back with my hand on her hip. Call me a caveman, but fuck it feels good.

  “Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or pepperoni Hot Pockets,” she says over her shoulder, placing her hand on mine.

  The simple action jolts a thrill of excitement through me, making me almost miss her answer. The fuck?

  “No, baby, I mean like your all-time favorite food.”

  “I’d go with Hot Pockets.” She stops once outside the classroom and waits for me to come to her side. She laces her fingers in mine, giving a gentle squeeze.

  “You’re serious here, aren’t you?” I lead us through the crowde
d hallway.

  When I spot the fucknutter who harassed Mack on the first day of class, I stare him down. Smart son of a bitch. He drops his head and walks away. That’s what I thought. Still wish I would’ve beat the ever-loving shit out of him.

  “Yes, why?” She glances up at me with wide eyes so full of innocence and genuine admiration.

  “Nothing.” I kiss her forehead. “Nothing at all.”

  We end up deciding on a sandwich shop on the corner of campus. It’s no coincidence it’s the least crowded restaurant. We place our backpacks in a booth then make our way to the counter to order, hand-in-hand.

  “What can I get you?” a busty blonde spilling out her top asks in a way too chipper voice.

  It takes her a few seconds to recognize me, and when she does, it’s fucking chaos. She squeals in delight, bouncing up and down. Her tits have no option than to go with the flow. She’s in danger of a nip slip any moment.

  “Holy shit, Trick, the Country Boy Brawler, I can’t believe it.” She slaps her cheeks, continuing to bounce around. “Do you remember me? Zoe. We met last year after your match.”

  She draws out the last word and raises her eyebrows, conveying a hidden message. Thing is she’s so fucking obvious there’s nothing hidden. Mack slinks behind me with all the attention. And if I’m a betting man, she’s not liking what Zoe just had to say.

  I slap my hand down on the counter, getting the over-eager cock chaser’s attention. “We are ready to order.”

  My words come out clipped in a harsh manner, like pieces of metal grating together. Zoe’s eyes go wide as she stops her antics. I pull Mack up to my side, holding up our linked hands, making my statement crystal fucking clear. Mack’s trembles echo off my body. It’s a goddamn poison tunnel trying to swallow us whole. I won’t allow it.

  “What can I get you?”

  I breathe easier when Zoe picks up on what I’m laying down.

  “I want your Italian combo.”

  “Half or whole?” she asks.

  “Whole,” I grunt, biting my tongue not to add a rude comment to the end about her stupidity. The angry storm of rage begins simmering inside of me. It can snap so fucking fast when I lose my temper. It’s taken me years to learn how to control it. It’s like containing a wild black bear sometimes.

  “My girlfriend will have…” I peer down at Mack, who’s reverted to her old ways of staring down at her raggedy sneakers. I won’t embarrass her in front of Zoe, but I also refuse to let her sink back into herself.

  “I’ll have the same as you, but a half,” she whispers.

  I can tell speaking those words took every ounce of courage inside her. I finish placing our order, including two bottles of water and bags of chips, never letting go of her hand. Zoe sulked back and is now doing a marvelous job of pouting.

  I reach into my back pocket, pulling out my wallet. Mack drops my hand. I watch her dig her hands into her pockets and produce a crinkled twenty-dollar bill.

  “I got this, baby.” I slide my debit card on the counter.

  “No, I want to pay for my own.”

  I turn to Mack and pull her in by her hips until we are chest to chest. I drop my forehead to hers. The thick black frames of her glasses glow under the lighting.

  “When we are together, I pay. No exceptions. You’re not going to argue. It’s the way I was raised.” I kiss her sweet, cherry-flavored lips.

  Mack doesn’t say a word when she tucks her crumpled bill back in her pocket.

  Zoe sends daggers our way; I ignore her, leading Mack back to our booth. I let go of her hand to see which side she slides into. Then I follow right behind, choosing not to sit across from her.

  “Sorry for that, Mack.” I sling my arm around her shoulders and tug her to me.

  “She likes you,” she whispers.

  “Look at me when you talk, please. It kills me when you don’t.”

  I am dead wrong, because when Mack gives me her face, I’m crushed with the hurt in her eyes.

  “Thank you.”

  “Why me, Trick?” Her question comes out rushed, with insecurity lacing each syllable.

  “What do you mean?” I lean in closer.

  I know damn well what she means, but I’m going to force it out of her.

  “She likes you. It’s clear you’ve been together in some sort of fashion and even more obvious she’d do anything for you. But you’re with me.”

  There we go. Forcing my sweet girl out of her shell. I’m damn proud of her even though we’re attacking an intense topic here.

  “She does like me. I have been with her.” I decide to rip the Band-Aid right off. “Haven’t been in a serious relationship since my high school years. There hasn’t been a woman who could get my attention long enough. It’s been fighting, the gym, training, and more fighting. It’s all that ever mattered until you. Can’t tell you why, Mack. But I fucking like you a whole hell of a lot. It’s not just MMA on my mind anymore. A sexy-as-hell green-eyed girl steals my dreams every night and my thoughts throughout the day.”

  “Oh.” She clasps her hands together under the booth.

  “I want you. It’s more than want. I need you in my life. We’re as opposites as they come. But I’m going to keep pushing you until you get sick of it or fall into me, baby.”

  I lick my lips, lean down, and brush them against hers. Mack answers in leading the kiss. My brave girl darts her tongue out until I open for her. It’s sweet and complete perfection as we dance together in unison. I drop my hand down to the top of her thighs, rubbing up and down. I test the boundaries but don’t push right through them.

  My cock throbs in protest when her hips move the slightest bit, and she moans into my mouth. Someone clears their throat, breaking up our tender and heated moment. We both look up to see Zoe with a scowl on her face, holding two red baskets of food in her hands.

  “Here.” She slams the food down on the table.

  “We need our water and chips as well.” I slide Mack’s basket of food in front of her.

  Zoe stomps off. I inspect both of our sandwiches before either of us begin to eat. Mack’s moans and groans as she eats are about to fucking undo me.

  “This is amazing,” she finally admits around a mouthful of food.

  “Yeah, this place has off-the-chain subs.”

  “I never would’ve ordered this. Thank you.”

  “What would you have ordered?” I asked, shoving the last bit of the first half of my sub in my mouth.

  “I wouldn’t have.” She wipes her mouth with a napkin. “I don’t eat out.”

  I crane my neck. “This is a first?”

  She slaps my chest and lays her head on my shoulder. “No, I’m not that big of a hermit. I just chose not to. Gene’s taken me out several times, and I’ve even ordered pizza.”

  She continues laying her head on my shoulder as I polish off the second half of my sub.

  “You finished?” I point to the quarter of her sandwich.

  She sits up and stares at me, her jaw slack. “You’re still hungry?”

  “Fuck yeah, I am.” I grin.

  She picks up the toasted sandwich and places it in my basket, wipes her hands off on her napkin, and then brings her fingers to my face, delicately soothing over the healing bruises and cuts.

  “Do they still hurt?” she asks.

  “Naw,” I answer before shoving the remaining sandwich in my mouth.

  “They’re…” Mack shakes her head.

  I reach out for my glass of water, bringing it to my lips and give her a sideways stare. “They’re what?”

  “Sexy,” she squeaks out.

  I raise an eyebrow and grin. “Noted.”

  Mack changes the subject quicker than a cheetah. “Won’t your stomach hurt after all that food?”

  “Not because of the amount of food, but the carbs might kill me tonight at training.”

  “You train every night?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I crumble down the paper in the basket
and push it to the center of the table while stretching out my legs underneath the table. I lay my head on the back of the booth and turn to stare at Mack. She lazily runs her fingers down my jawline. I flick off my snapback and place it on the table, craving like no other for her to run her fingers through my hair.

  “You going to the center tonight?” I ask.

  “Yes, sir,” she mocks me.

  “Good thing we have a class together, or we’d never see each other.”

  “I know.”

  We remain in the booth for a long time talking about everything and nothing. Mack has an uncanny ability to pull words from me. I’m a reserved person at heart, keeping my business to myself until her. She talks about Gene, the center, and her dreams of one day running non-profit organizations for those in need.

  The walk to the bike rack is made mostly in comfortable silence.

  “This is me.” Mack grins widely, patting the seat of her worn bike.

  “Yeah, it is.”

  I’m about to blow Mack’s mind in three seconds.

  Chapter 11

  Mack

  He bought a bike. I grin up at the ceiling and adjust my glasses on the bridge of my nose. It’s been three days since Trick bought me a sandwich and then rode home with me on his very own bike. I smiled the entire time.

  Trick’s enormous frame on a mountain bike looked odd. Somehow, he made it sexy. I swear the man has magical powers that are potent and seem to be controlling me.

  There hasn’t been a time in my life where I’ve smiled and laughed so much. Trick shoved me right out of my typical routines and has made me live. And I never want to go back to the girl I was. I find myself blinking all the time to make sure it’s not a dream.

  I’m no fool. I’ve read enough books to know not every tale has a happy ending. That exact thought scares the shit out of me and is almost powerful enough to make me hide. I’ve been hiding my whole life. I’m sick of it. One tiny taste of life with Trick has made me an addict in the best possible way. If this all crumbles, I’ll have memories to cherish forever.